


My Sun, My Earth

by berusama



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP, but with accidental plot, hence chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-16
Updated: 2009-03-16
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berusama/pseuds/berusama
Summary: Arthur exacts his revenge. Merlin helps.





	1. Building a Bridge

It’s possible his logic was flawed. He hadn’t been thinking straight since he’d found out, and he could admit that now.

He could admit it as he shattered one of the ceiling-to-floor windows of their flat with a stone. The keys were still in his pocket, but this was so much more satisfying. Arthur grinned and stepped out of the rain onto broken glass.

He could admit that she probably wouldn’t see this as him proving himself as a man. Still, it was one piece of himself he’d never given her. One piece she hadn’t torn from him before he’d realized what she was doing. How she was breaking him.

Arthur trailed his fingers across the furniture he hated in the living room. If they had time, he’d like to ruin it. He peeled off his sopping jacket and left it to soak the carpet in the hall. The camera was where they’d always kept it in the bedroom, their footage still on the tape. Recording over it was going to be perfect. He watched as his and Sofia’s faces played back at him and smiled mirthlessly. So fake. How hadn’t he seen it before? Pulling out his phone, Arthur sent a quick text and sat down on the bed.

 

In the driveway, Morgana closed her phone and nodded to the person in the backseat. He got out of the car into the rain and she waited long enough to make sure he was inside before driving away.

 

Arthur looked up as a figure appeared in the door way. The dark-haired man smiled at him, knowing and wicked, as Arthur placed the camera on the dresser, angled to capture the whole bed.

The man crossed the room to stand in front of Arthur, stripping his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one fluid movement. Arthur lifted a hand to pale skin and really, logic didn’t have anything to do with it.

“What’s your name?” he asked, palming a sharp hipbone.

“You can call me Emrys.”

Arthur turned his face into the cold hand that brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“Get the camera,” Emrys whispered and then climbed onto the bed as Arthur leaned back to reach the ‘record’ button. The red light appeared, but he didn’t sit up, letting the fingers at his belt do the work.

Blue eyes glanced up at him and Arthur could see his mouth quirk before it enveloped his cock. He groaned, carding his fingers through wet hair, encouraging the man with a roll of his hips. He pulled off too soon to shed Arthur’s and his own pants and Arthur’s shirt.

Arthur reached for him as he climbed back onto the bed, wrapping a hand around Emrys' dick once he had settled. He let his eyes drift to the camera as a mouth bit and licked at his neck and Arthur could feel himself smiling, cruel and smug and all the things he had learned from Sophia. She should be so proud.

Hands on his hips turned Arthur and he went willingly onto his knees, shifting as the hands moved down his thighs and then back up to his dick, to his shoulders, pulling him back against the body behind him. There were words, strange words whispered against his back and then fingers inside him: warm and slick with god knows what. Arthur moaned and shifted back further.

Three fingers inside, stretching, questing when he felt it. “ _Yes_ ,” he gasped and the fingers were gone, replaced by a bigger, more insistent force. No condom; he’d requested that, trusting whoever Morgana sent would be safe.

Emrys groaned as he slipped inside: one long, slow _press_ that pushed Arthur forward and onto his elbows. He let his head hang as they stilled for a moment – the only sounds in the room their breathing and the incessant rain on the windows – and then Arthur arched his back and _squeezed_. Emrys gasped in his ear and rolled his hips forward, an arm around Arthur’s waist easing him down onto the mattress. Arthur grinned, eyes flashing to the camera as he braced his arms by his shoulders and shoved back until Emrys finally began to move, hips forcing Arthur’s into the bed over and over.

This was slower than he’d imagined it. He’d pictured a quick, dirty fuck, pictured reaching behind himself to fist a hand in the stranger’s hair, pictured getting bitten, maybe even spanked. But this. This is what he and Sophia had never had. What they would never have. This was perfect.

Arthur moaned as Emrys changed his rhythm to short, quick, powerful thrusts. He was muttering against Arthur’s shoulder, words he didn’t recognize again interspersed with curses and quiet praise. And then there was something surrounding his dick, which was ridiculous because it was trapped underneath him, but still there was something. Something warm and pulsing, something that vibrated gently every time Emrys groaned.

Arthur pressed his face to the mattress and thrashed helplessly, unable to ease the throbbing pleasure that was building, spreading through his body, relentless as the rain. The fingers at his hip griped painfully and the room flashing brightly with an improbable lightening strike. Thundered followed immediately, crashing all around them, and Arthur could feel Emrys coming inside him, could taste the ozone in the air and he froze as the orgasm seized him, made him blind for several glorious seconds.

When he could feel his body again, his back was cold and his arms aching, but there were fingers dancing along his sides. Arthur turned and looked up into Emrys’ blue, _blue_ eyes. He smiled softly, just one side of his lips pulling up as his eyes darted down to Arthur’s own.

Arthur pushed himself up to meet the other man half way and they kissed, cold lips in a colder room. It was soft and chaste, even if Arthur’s tongue snuck out to lick at Emrys’ lips before he pulled back. Emrys kissed him again, twice quickly before turning and stopping the camera recording.

“Let’s get out of here,” he offered, voice low and promising. Arthur smiled softly, considering, and nodded.

They dressed and then Arthur connected the camera to the TV. He thought about leaving it playing as he watched the two men on the screen shift to laying fully on the bed, but then Emrys pressed pause and that was even better. The picture stuttered, but what is showed was clear: Arthur smirked at the camera, on his knees for a stranger who touched him like he’d always known Arthur’s body.

Arthur nodded again and they left the bedroom. He made sure to jump up and walk across the couches in the living room, the damage he left on the leather wet and irreparable and so fucking satisfying.

Emrys grinned at him and together they walked out into the rain.


	2. With His Love

The drive back to Arthur’s new flat was silent but for the rain beating against the car. Arthur glanced at the man sitting next to him. He’d reclined the seat back and was sprawled in it artfully, his head resting against the window, a small smile tugging at his lips.   
  
Arthur turned his eyes back to the road. It was nearly empty at this time of night. The rain clouds were illuminated strangely by the moon they blocked and in all, it made for an eerie scene.   
  
It fit the sort of night he was having, though. By the time they reached his flat, Arthur felt as though a soft dream-like state had settled over him. His thoughts were muted, only the basic ones made sense any more: he was home; it was raining; there was a man getting out of his car, opening his door for him. The rain felt good when he got out. It felt normal; like he had always been covered in it.  
  
He lead the way into his flat and they stood in the entrance hall in silence until Emrys caught his gaze and smiled, stepping forward to kiss him. The fog in his mind seemed to clear as Emrys’ lips moved against his and Arthur could feel the numbness being replaced with warm anticipation.   
  
He tugged at Emrys’ clothes as he walked backwards, forcing the other man to follow. Wet clothing formed a trail across the flat and into the bedroom. Arthur pushed Emrys onto the bed gently and then followed, climbing over him and running a hand up his side. Their skin was clammy and cold, and Arthur shivered at the feel of Emrys’ fingers on the small of his back.   
  
Arthur was about to get up to turn on the heating when Emrys murmured a few strange words into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Instantly, Arthur felt warmed, like a fire had been started somewhere and was quickly heating the room. He lifted his head and asked, “What was that?”  
  
“What was what?” Emrys asked, kissing Arthur’s shoulder again.   
  
“Those words. You spoke like that earlier too. What does it mean?”  
  
Emrys stilled and then gently pushed Arthur away enough so that he could sit up. He was looking at Arthur strangely as he said, “You can hear them?”  
  
Arthur nodded. It occurred to him that this was a strange conversation, but the general strangeness of his evening still had him in a bit of a daze, so he asked again, “What do they mean?”  
  
“It’s… it’s complicated,” Emrys answered eventually. He was looking at Arthur now like he was some sort of fascinating specimen. Gently he took Arthur’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Can you feel this?” he asked before whispering against Arthur’s palm rough, exotic-sounding words.   
  
A tingling rush accompanied the thin silver lines that intricately danced their way up his arm. Arthur touched his forearm gently and his fingers came away with a soft silver dusting on the tips.   
  
“What-” he started, but stopped as soon as he saw Emrys’ eyes. They were gold. “Who are you,” he asked instead.  
  
Emrys smiled, releasing Arthur’s hand with a shrug. “Depends. These days we’re mostly called ‘freaks.’”  
  
“We?”  
  
“Well I’m certainly not the only one.” Arthur watched the silver disappear, almost as though it were seeping into his skin.  
  
“What do you mean, ‘these days’?”  
  
“Just that people used to be more creative with the names they gave people like me: sorcerer, warlock, magician… devil.” Emrys’ lips quirked upwards with the last name.   
  
Arthur found himself smirking in return. This night could not get any stranger and for the life of him, he couldn’t care less. He reached for Emrys’ hand, entwining their fingers. “Devil, huh? My mother warned me about boys like you.”  
  
Emrys grinned, his eyes folding into pretty little crescents. “Did she?”  
  
“Yes.” Arthur moved their joined hands to Emrys’ groin. He was soft, but his cock gave a promising twitch when Arthur moved to kneel between his legs. “She always said to watch out for the devilish ones because they may be easy on the eyes, but they won’t be easy on your heart.”  
  
Emrys let himself be pushed back until Arthur was braced over him on one arm. “She sounds like a smart woman, your mother.”  
  
Arthur smiled sadly. “She is. She was. She’s dead,” he said softly.   
  
As soon as he said it, Arthur wished he could take it back. There were reasons he never talked about his mother, and that it made people feel awkward was just one of them. But Emrys didn’t say anything; didn’t apologize or try to change the subject. He lifted a hand to Arthur’s face and traced across a cheekbone.   
  
“I’ll bet she was beautiful.” Arthur could only nod his head. Emrys smiled and said, “You look like her.”  
  
Arthur met his gaze and Emrys leaned up to touch their lips together. He followed Emrys as he relaxed back down to the bed, settling himself on top of the other man.   
  
Emrys rubbed himself against Arthur's hip and Arthur smoothed a hand down between them to hold both their lengths. The kiss had turned lazy and intimate by the time Arthur broke it to lick his way down Emrys’ chest. His legs fell open as Arthur settled between them and it was all the encouragement Arthur needed to take the other man’s cock into his mouth.   
  
He wasn’t terribly skilled at this, Arthur knew, but he did know what felt good, so he licked and sucked and twisted relentlessly until Emrys’ hands were on his shoulders, in his hair.   
  
“Wait,” Emrys panted, even as he thrust against Arthur’s grip on his hips. “Oh God, stop.”  
  
Arthur tried to pull off, but the fingers in his hair kept him in place and he laughed around his mouthful at all the mixed signals.   
  
“Oh,” Emrys said, seeming to come to himself, and removed his hands.   
  
“I can keep-” Arthur offered, smiling, but Emrys cut him off.  
  
“No, no I want… Here, sit up.”  
  
Arthur sat up, moving back to lean against the pillows at the head of the bed at Emrys' direction.  
  
Emrys gave him a moment to get comfortable before climbing onto Arthur’s lap, as close as possible. “Do you want to fuck me?” He asked, sitting long and wiry and strong on top of him, and Arthur gripped his hips and said, ‘yes.’  
  
“I don’t um… I don’t have anything, though,” Arthur said, but Emrys only smiled and took Arthur’s cock into a loose grip. He whispered a few words Arthur thought he recognized and then his dick was covered in something… something almost warm and slightly tingling.   
  
Emrys swiped a finger through the stuff and then raised himself onto his knees and reached back.   
  
“Are you…?” Arthur trailed off, eyes wide.  
  
“Yeah, hang on,” Emrys panted, his breath ghosting across Arthur’s forehead. It wasn’t long before he retracted his hand and said, “Fuck it, just go slow, alright?”  
  
“Alright,” Arthur agreed, watching in fascination as Emrys positioned himself over Arthur’s dick and then slowly, slowly allowed it into his body.   
  
“Oh God,” Emrys breathed once he was seated on Arthur’s lap again. Arthur could only gasp, but he nodded in agreement, threading one hand through Emrys’ hair to bring him into a kiss that was more shared breath than actual kissing.   
  
“Okay?” Arthur asked and when Emrys wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck and said, ‘yes,’ Arthur finally let his hips roll forward. Emrys moved himself up and down, riding Arthur slowly, and Arthur met him half-way, thrusting up into incredible tightness and then pulling back only to force himself in again, harder, for longer.   
  
Arthur had lost track of everything but their steady rhythm when Emrys kissed the side of his mouth and asked, “Ready?”  
  
He had no idea what else he could possibly be ready for, but Arthur nodded anyway. Emrys whispered his words, words that sounded so much filthier when they were groaned out between deep thrusts. There was a breathless pause and then he felt it. He’d only ever felt it once before, once earlier tonight in fact, but Arthur would never forget this feeling. This sensation of being filled so completely.  
  
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, shoving down onto the mattress to try and get whatever was suddenly inside of him deeper. Emrys raised himself up and when Arthur lifted his hips to drive back in, the thing inside him thrust deeper too. Arthur’s head whipped back against the pillows behind him and Emrys groaned, hands braced at Arthur’s ribs, mouth biting at Arthur’s neck.   
  
Arthur didn’t last much longer under the sudden onslaught of sensations. Trying to fuck and get fucked at the same time was throwing off his rhythm but that didn’t seem to matter because soon enough Emrys was gasping and coming, clenching around Arthur so hard his orgasm was nearly painful in its intensity.   
  
Arthur felt Emrys collapse against him, head resting on his shoulder, and they stayed like that for several minutes, catching their breath. Eventually Emrys sat up and slowly lifted himself off of Arthur’s lap. As his dick slipped from Emrys’ body, Arthur felt himself emptied of the penetrating force Emrys seemed to have conjured.   
  
“That’s a nice trick,” he said, sliding to one side until he was resting on the mattress. Emrys grinned at him and lay down too. Arthur thought about trying to get under the duvet, but the room was pleasantly warm and comfortable, so instead he draped an arm across Emrys’ hip and said, “Good night.”  
  
“Good night,” Emrys said and Arthur could feel a kiss pressed to his forehead before drifting off into sleep.  
  
  
\- - -  
  
  
Arthur woke to the cold silence of his bedroom; the rain had stopped and Emrys was gone.   
  
He was disappointed, but for the first time that month Arthur felt awake. His mind was clear and focused, like all the angry and self-pitying thoughts he had been carrying around with him had been swept away. It wasn’t a feeling of being carefree, exactly, but there was a definite sense of caring less. Arthur was struck with the sudden thought that he had finally moved on.   
  
With a small smile, he got out of bed and made his way to the shower. Having finished his morning ritual an hour later, Arthur took a taxi to work and rode the elevator all the way up to his father’s office.   
  
Uther glanced up from his desk as be bid Arthur to enter and then again, openly staring at his son as he walked into the room.   
  
“Is everything alright?” he asked cautiously. Arthur smiled, though it only seemed to make his father more wary.  
  
“Yes. Everything is perfectly fine.”  
  
Uther gazed at him for several long moments before his face softened minutely and a small smile tugged at his lips.   
  
“Very well. I’ll see you in twenty minutes, then, for the board meeting.”  
  
Arthur nodded, returning the tentative smile before exiting the office.   
  
When he reached his own office, Arthur picked up the phone and ordered a bouquet of flowers to be sent to Morgana. She probably wouldn’t keep them, but then at least Gwen would have something nice to take home.   
  
Arthur’s thought drifted to Emrys and he wondered briefly if Morgana would tell him how he could get in touch with the man, but he knew better than to ask.   
  
Lifting his fingers from where they rested on the phone, Arthur turned to sit at his desk and begin preparing for the day.  
  
  
Morgana called that evening to say thank you for the flowers – which had gone home with her personal assistant, Gwen, as he thought they would – and invite him to a ‘small get-together’ this coming weekend at her flat. But Arthur knew what Morgana’s ‘small’ parties were like and politely declined. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be around that many beautiful, drunk, and flirtatious people.   
  
“Maybe next month,” Arthur said appeasably, as he packed his briefcase to head home.   
  
“What makes you think there’ll be another party next month?” she asked, not wanting to take ‘no’ for an answer.   
  
“I know you, Morgana. There’ll be another party next month.” She laughed and thankfully changed the topic.   
  
By the time Arthur hung up with Morgana, most of the office building was empty. Arthur took the elevator down to the main floor and thought about dinner. There wouldn’t be any ready for him at his flat, but there never had been before, either. The difference was that now he wouldn’t have to share the silence with anyone. He spared a thought to think that he might not mind sharing the silence with Emrys; he wondered if the man could cook, pictured him in Arthur’s kitchen, and smiled.   
  
Arthur hailed a taxi and as he sat in the backseat, thinking about last night, a welcomed blanket of calm settled over him, one that would return every time he thought of Emrys over the next week.   
  
\- - -  
  
True to form, Morgana called three weeks later to invite him to a ‘small get-together’ on the upcoming Saturday. Arthur hesitated in answering just long enough for Morgana to call him out on his bluff, telling him he was dying to go, but too proud to say yes right away.   
  
Arthur laughed, “Yes, Morgana, I live to attend your parties. Tell me, will there be another round of ‘spin the bottle’ and this get-together?”  
  
“Don’t get testy. You’re just mad you didn’t get to play last time,” Morgana teased gently. Arthur laughed, not so much out of humor but to let her know it was okay for her to start making jokes about his last relationship. He knew she had a whole arsenal of hateful things to say about Sophia, but she’d been hedging around the subject these past few weeks.   
  
“Alright, then,” he agreed finally, “I’ll make an appearance.”  
  
  
The rest of the week passed in what had become a normal routine for Arthur, a routine that had felt like going back to a time before complications. He didn’t feel as excited for life or his work as he had back then, but at least the stress and strain of constantly trying to please someone else was gone.  
  
Arthur closed his laptop and stretched out on his living room couch. Morgana’s party would have started about an hour ago. If he got ready now and drove over, he could say hello, stand around for a bit and then leave early without his step-sister complaining that he had barely been there at all.   
  
An hour later, Arthur left his keys with the valet and rode the elevator up to the penthouse Morgana was staying in at the moment. She’d been threatening to move into his new flat with him any day now, but judging by the decadence of the place she was staying, they were probably empty threats.   
  
He had been standing in the foyer for less than a minute when Arthur felt a hand wrap around his arm.   
  
“You came,” Morgana said with a smile, handing him a glass of something. “I’m glad.”  
  
“Yes, well, I didn’t want you to go on about broken promises and all that,” he said, only a little uncomfortable in the face of her obvious happiness and approval.   
  
She said, “I understand,” and slipped her arm around his. “Come say hi to Gwen.”   
  
They were stopped only twice on their way to the oversized balcony, which had to be a record at parties like these. Half these people were probably only here by word-of-mouth and schmoozing with the hostess and her brother was surely a must for many of them.   
  
Gwen beamed at him once they reached her, obviously approving of his first steps back into the social world.   
  
They talked about nothing in particular in the cool summer-night breeze until something over Arthur’s shoulder caught Gwen’s eye; she smiled suddenly and a pretty blush spread across her cheeks.  
  
Both Morgana and Arthur turned to see two men making their way towards the balcony from the foyer. Arthur didn’t recognize the handsome man with longish, wavy brown hair but then he stepped aside, revealing the second person. Arthur gasped involuntarily, but thankfully not loud enough for anyone else to hear.   
  
When Emrys caught his gaze, he stopped and stared back, a smile spreading across his face. His companion kept walking, eyes trained somewhere behind Arthur and they passed one another as Arthur began to walk towards the dark-haired man he hadn’t quite been able to stop thinking about for the past month or so.   
  
“Hi,” he said, once he had reached Emrys.  
  
“Hi,” Emrys answered, still smiling. Arthur realized that he was smiling too. He also realized that he’d never given this man his name.   
  
“I’m Arthur.” He held out his free hand and the other man took it immediately.  
  
“Arthur  _Pendragon_?” Emrys asked, but didn’t let go.  
  
“Yes.” He raised his eyebrows a little, waiting for a reciprocal introduction.  
  
“I’m Merlin.”  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur repeated. It was nearly as strange a name as the one he’d given Arthur when they’d met. He let go of Emrys-  _Merlin’s_  hand reluctantly.   
  
“Nice to meet you.”  
  
“The pleasure’s all– well,” Arthur cut himself off and Merlin’s lips twitched playfully. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you too.”  
  
Arthur tried to think of something to say, some small-talk to start up, but there was no awkwardness to cover up. In fact, he personally felt quite comfortable just standing near Emrys and soak up the sight of him. A thought, however, occurred to him suddenly.  
  
“Are you here with…” Arthur glanced behind them to where the long-haired man was laughing with Gwen and Morgana.  
  
“Lance? No, no, we’re just friends. I mean, we shared a cab, but we’re not here together... You?”  
  
“Ah, no, I’m here alone as well. Morgana was twisting my arm to come, so I agreed to pop in for a bit.”   
  
“Yeah, she mentioned you might be here; I’m glad you decided to come.”  
  
Arthur smiled and said, “Me too.”  
  
At the sound of Morgana calling their names, Arthur let himself be dragged back out onto the balcony. It turned out that he had quite a lot in common with Lance and the five of them chatted quite amicably, but without direction, for about an hour. It was pleasant, and not just because he’d been avoiding company for a couple months. Every time Arthur caught Emrys’ eye, he smiled, which left him smiling quite a lot over the course of the conversation.   
  
Arthur watched Emrys speak, listened to him laugh, watched him interact with the others, and though he couldn’t quite stop referring to him as ‘Emrys’ in his head, there was definitely something different about the man standing next to him tonight: something more normal and everyday than the sensual creature who had spent the night with Arthur. But then Emrys would cut his eyes to Arthur, give him a slow, knowing smile and Arthur couldn’t help but respond, his body flashing back to  _rain, heat, magic_.   
  
The party was just starting to get going when Arthur decided he wanted to take his leave of the balcony. Gwen and Morgana were making their way to where the dancing had started, pulling Lance along, so Arthur turned to Emrys.   
  
“Do you want something to drink?” Arthur asked, gesturing towards the flat.   
  
“Actually,” Merlin said – because he was ‘Merlin’ when he spoke, that much Arthur could distinguish – frowning a little, “I have to leave pretty soon.”  
  
Arthur tried not to let his disappointment show. “Better offer?”  
  
Merlin smiled gently, coy, and said, “No. Just a client.”   
  
Arthur felt his face fall before he could stop himself. He hadn’t even stopped to think that... “Oh, right, sorry, I didn’t realize...”  
  
Merlin was looking at him strangely, like perhaps Arthur was speaking another language suddenly. “Realize what?”  
  
“That you... I mean, I think it’s fine, of course, obviously, I just forgot that you- Not that I would judge you based on occupation, I only-” Arthur cut himself off when he saw understanding dawn on Merlin’s face.   
  
He laughed and said, “Arthur, I work  _with_  Morgana, not  _for_  Morgana. That night with you: it was a favor, not a job.”   
  
Arthur nodded, trying to think if he’d ever met any of Morgana’s other ‘associates’.   
  
“A favor,” Merlin went on, perhaps feeling the need to clarify, “that I willingly and eagerly agreed to.”  
  
Arthur nodded again, but this time he smiled too, wanting to let him know he understood, that he felt the same, that he was glad, that he hoped it could happen again some time. That Merlin got all that from a single smile was unlikely, but still, he smiled back and said, “Maybe we could exchange numbers and meet up some time.”   
  
“I’d like that,” Arthur said, and saved the phone number under ‘Merlin.’  
  
Deciding he'd leave now as well - but not admitting that it was so they could share a taxi - Arthur followed Merlin back out onto the balcony to say their goodbyes. Morgana didn't even protest his early departure as she smirked at him knowingly, but as he and Merlin sat next to each other in the dark the car, Arthur really couldn’t be bothered to care.   
  
\- - -  
  
Arthur was on his way home when he got the text: ‘I made dinner. When will you be here?’  
  
He smiled, and wrote back: ‘Soon.’   
  
In the evening traffic, however, this was not an accurate approximation. Arthur opened his front door forty-five minutes later to the sight of Merlin sitting on the living room floor. All the furniture had been pushed to one side of the room and Chinese take-away was spread around him on a black blanket. Merlin smiled, looking improbably elegant in grey sweats and a white t-shirt.   
  
“I thought you said you cooked,” Arthur said, setting down his brief case and untying his shoes.   
  
“Well you took so long that I had to reheat everything. The microwave counts as cooking.”  
  
Arthur laughed. “Only to you.”  
  
“Right, because  _you’re_  the master of the kitchen around here.”  
  
“Well it is my kitchen...”  
  
“You wouldn’t know it for how often you’re not in it.”  
  
“Well you’d just kick me out anyway because you’re a pushy bastard who needs his space.” Arthur knelt next to Merlin and kissed his up-turned lips.   
  
“This is true,” Merlin said against his mouth.   
  
They managed to eat with minimal mess despite Merlin’s insistence on using chop-sticks. After everything was cleared away, Merlin dragged Arthur back to the blanket and pulled him down onto it.   
  
“Roll over,” he said and straddled Arthur’s lower back once he was settled. Merlin’s weight pushed his hips down into the lush carpet, and a jolt ran down Arthur’s body to settle pleasantly between his legs. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply as Merlin’s hands began to massage his work-tense shoulders and back.   
  
It felt wonderful, but still Arthur tried to focus on his breathing, on the calm, soothing feel of the massage and not the sexy, rolling motion of Merlin’s movements on top of him. He didn’t do very well.   
  
“How does it feel?” Merlin asked, his mouth close to Arthur’s ear. Arthur moaned from low in his throat and could have sworn his felt Merlin grind down against his back briefly. He was about to excuse himself to the bathroom when Merlin licked his ear and began to speak, his voice low and promising, “Arthur, I know that you’ve been avoiding me intimately because you’ve got some noble and deranged idea about proving this relationship is not built on sex, but if you don’t fuck me or go down on me or at least let me get myself off in front of you tonight, I’m going to tie you up and make you come so hard that you’d wish this relationship  _was_  built on sex only, okay?”  
  
Arthur swallowed audibly and pushed up off the floor. Merlin toppled to the side gracelessly and Arthur was immediately braced above him.   
  
“Tie me up, huh? You think you could manage that?” he teased.  
  
Merlin smirked and said, “I’d find a way.”  
  
Arthur leaned down and licked into Merlin’s mouth. He pulled away, however, to look down at Merlin, who sighed dramatically.   
  
“I’m not kidding about tying you up. You know I’m more than a match for you.”  
  
“I know,” Arthur said quickly. “I just…” He looked down and then back up, biting his tongue like there was something he wanted to say, but didn’t know how to start.  
  
Merlin smiled gently and reached up to run a finger across Arthur’s cheekbone.   
  
“I know,” he whispered, dragging his fingers up into Arthur’s hair. “Me too.”

Arthur smiled and closed his eyes against the blissful sensation of Merlin's fingers against his scalp. "You too?"

"Yeah," Merlin whispered, meeting Arthur half-way as he leaned down for another kiss. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if it was obvious, but chapter 1 was inspired by Justin Timberlake's _Cry Me A River_ music video.


End file.
